Path of the Exile: Chronicles
by A.R. Minion
Summary: A collection of one-shot chapters based on the Knight of the Old Republic series. LSM Revan & LSM Exile
1. Chapter 1

POTE: Memoirs

**POTE: Chronicles - I Want to See**

She had been waiting for this moment. It had been the span of several weeks since this overpowering desire had taken hold of her, but before now she had not the chance to act upon it. There had been too many risks, too many dangers, and too many others that did not trust her who would stand in her way.

But now, they were asleep, and she could move about freely without their eyes falling upon her.

And Visas decided that she had waited long enough.

Rising from her bunk, the Miraluka quietly let her bare feet fall upon the ground. The cold metal floor sent a strong chill up the woman's legs, causing her to waver for a moment as she stood up. She had perhaps spent too much time meditating and resting these last few days, she realized. Then again, what else was there for her to do but rest and contemplate where she was and all that being here meant to her?

Despite the Exile… despite Kai having extended her an offer of kindness in allowing her to roam freely, the blind seer had yet to find the will, or perhaps the courage, to converse with his companions or even leave the confines of this room.

Turning about, the Miraluka let her gaze fall upon her bunkmates. To her left, the Iridonian was in a deep slumber, his remote and artificial arm lying on the ground at the foot of his bunk. There was something… similar between this one and the Exile. The sound of his voice… it echoed of great pain, of great sins and guilt, and the desire to find if only the tiniest shred of redemption. And weighed against that, an insatiable anger, and the fear that it will once again claim him, body and soul.

To Visas' right, the huntress lay unceremoniously scrawled upon the mattress, still fully dressed and fully armed with one boot still on the ground and her blanket twisted about her. It had taken her a long time to fall asleep, as she had tossed and turned in her attempt for about an hour. She did not like being on this ship and the unending hum of the engines accompanied by endless hours of silence. She did not like not knowing why she was here, or why she felt this is where she needed to be, or why she found faith in a man who only two months ago had been nothing more to her than another bounty.

Perhaps tonight the Miraluka would be able to find the answer to that question, for her and for herself.

Slowly, quietly, Visas left the dormitory behind her, traversing through the cold, metal walkway, past the loading ramp, past the garage, and quickly finding herself in the main hold. Within the room, she vaguely sensed the minuscule sparks of electrical energy: the presence of the droids. The round one remained floating in front of the console as always, currently in stasis with all exterior sensors on standby; the same being true for the small utility robot that was currently tucked away in the storage room, alongside the still non-functioning combat-droid at its side.

It was within these two particular droids that the blind seer sensed something… peculiar. It was not uncommon for machines to bare markings of their history; imprints within the Force, as it were, like the fingerprints of where they had been, what they had seen and done, and with whom. However, the memento which Visas sensed left upon the pair of droids was not so subtle a thing as a tell-tale clue left in the sand. No, this was far more apparent and far more implicating, like this distant crack of thunder telling of a massive storm approaching. For what she sensed upon the machines was a mark of power; the mark of a great and overwhelming power that the droids had once been in the presence of. Whoever or whatever was once the source of that power – the Miraluka could not but speculate. And yes, she did have her suspicions…

Despite this, or maybe because of it, the blind seer felt almost certain that this pair of machines had played a great role in the events that brought the galaxy to where it was now, and perhaps they had a role to play still, as perhaps she did.

The enigmatic woman then turned down the center pathway, only taking a few steps before she reached her destination: the medical bay. It was there that she knew to find him.

He laid on his back with his head turned away from her, his hair a bit of a mess as his ponytail had come undone while he slept. He seemed very peaceful as he slept, unburdened by the weight that rested on his shoulders. Perhaps that was why he slept for two to three hours at most.

That being, the Miraluka knew she did not have a lot of time.

For a brief moment, Visas simply looked upon him as she did everything else, revealing all that was about her in a bland mesh. It was the closest the blind seer could come to perceiving what he actually looked like. But such vague, superficial perception was not what she came here for. What she desired was far more invasive, and required her to look beyond the flesh.

The Miraluka's sight began to adjust at her will, focusing more deeply upon the Exile, stripping away the outer walls created by his body, heart, and mind, and delving into what was kept hidden beneath it all.

There it was: the wound in the Force. Like a piece of fabric that had been violently and brutally ripped from the tapestry. And it was from within this gaping maw that the blind seer felt it. The echo…

How quiet it had been when she first heard it - barely a whisper in the dark. Even now, as she stood before the source, gazing into to it with her bloodied sight, it remained such a subtle thing. Louder and clearer, yes, but still subtle.

In many ways, it reminded her of her lord: a presence reaching far and wide, touching upon every ounce of life within and beyond the galaxy. But the similarities ended there. Where the cry of her Master was nothing more than the empty scream of an insatiable hunger, this echo was much more by far.

Pain, suffering, death: yes, these were a part of the echo, and how much the Miraluka wished she could tear these things away from Kai, to take them upon herself so he would remain untainted by their power. Yet… against these forces, Visas knew she could not help him, anymore than she had been able to help herself, and how weak and helpless that made the blinded slave feel.

It was then that the Exile shifted in his sleep, turning his head about to face in the Miraluka's direction. Visas' heart nearly stopped then as she feared that perhaps he would awaken. Yet as the seconds passed and nothing happened, the blind woman regained her composure and drive.

She needed to act and quick. She could not afford to hesitate for a moment longer. With all the strength of her scarred sight, the seer once again stared into the void that was the wound in the Force. Her mind's sight delved deeply into the chasm, and immediately she found herself assaulted by all that laid within. Pain, endless screams, and the power of death: they enveloped her, coursed through her, and threatened to tear her very soul apart.

But she did not care. All she felt were mere tastes of the extent of Kai's suffering, and she would not be able to live with herself if she pulled back simply because of this. Her desire was far stronger. She needed to see.

Somewhere within that wound in the Force, through all that suffering, was the answer. The answer to how he had survived what no one else could. The answer to why he drew others to him… to why she was drawn to him. The answer to why his life was more important to her than all the lives in all the galaxy, and why she would die for him without regret or hesitation. She needed an answer. She needed to see!

All of a sudden, the Miraluka found herself under assault. As if a massive, overpowering hand had wrapped itself about her neck, Visas' sight was violently ripped away from the Exile. It did not end there, however. The presence continued to attack her, throwing a wave of unending agony into her mind that was so overwhelming that the blind seer lost all sense of where she was and what she had been attempting to do.

Rather abruptly, the presence chose to finally release her, and Visas found herself still standing above Kai's sleeping form, her heart feeling as though it was about to leap out of her chest.

And then… a foreign voice fell upon her mind.

_"If you ever attempt this again, blinded slave, I shall make it that all the you see until the end of your days is the decimation of your race and loved ones, and you shall feel my punishment until you long to return to your Master… Now leave him…"_

It was her…

The voice of the old woman, laced with the same venom that spewed from the mouth of her lord, except far more potent and cruel. She had been watching, waiting for the moment when the blinded seer would be at her most vulnerable, when she could cause her the greatest amount of pain. How strongly Visas desired to kill that one, to remove her presence from the galaxy and taste even the smallest inch of vengeance against those that made her what she is now. She would have savored every moment of it.

But… to bring harm to her was to bring harm to him… and Visas could not contemplate doing such a thing… She could not harm him…

Quietly, obediently, the Miraluka turned about and started back for the dormitory. She had not found her answers, and as long as that old woman was alive, she would not find them.

She would have to wait…


	2. Chapter 2

**POTE: Chronicles – My Life… For Yours**

It should have been him! It had been his careless actions, his ignorance and recklessness! For one moment, when he had thought it safe to let his guard down, to release the constant strain he kept upon his senses every second of every moment whilst passing every waking hour, he let down his guard. He had been in error. And he was the one who should have paid the price!

They had just returned from Onderon – an affair that had ended abruptly and unsatisfying. Tired and drained, Kai Lugo and his companions, now unexpectedly including the apparently new Mandalore, had made the final trip back to the Ebon Hawk from the Mandalorian Fortress with a few small carrying crates of fresh supplies whilst cutting their way through thick jungle and hungry beasts.

With a heavy container in his arms, the Exile had let the relief he felt at the sight of the ship's hull dull his perceptions. It was only within a foot from stepping up on the loading ramp that his senses alerted him to what he had overlooked. And he quickly dropped the crate and turned about, only in time to see it was too late as a Sith Assassin, a lone straggler from the ones that had attacked them at the base, appeared from the shadows of the towering foliage and aimed his wrist launcher directly at the Jedi, activating it not a second before Mandalore and HK-47 managed to level off their rifles.

It happened so quickly then as he saw the projectile flying towards him. And as he did, Kai found the sensations so nostalgic that, for a moment in that moment, he thought himself back nearly eleven years ago, standing in the hangar bay of the Mandalorian Stronghold, seeing the rocket flying from the wrist launcher of that young, terrified boy he had tried to save. The Exile immediately snapped back to the present then, as this time he was so unprepared, so careless, that he could not react in time to divert the missile that was coming directly at him.

It was his mistake. It was he who should have paid the price, be it that it might cost him his life.

An instant before the projectile reached its target something unexpected happened that left Kai completely dumbfounded for a long moment. A blurred mesh of scarlet and onyx hues passed in front of the man's eyes. At first he did not know what such a thing meant. But then the missile reached the end of its path, and the soft sound of a woman gasping in pain reached the Exile's ears.

He knew what it meant then.

He knew then that it was not he who had paid the price…

{(---)}

Amidst the pounding rain, the sound of the blaster fire roused the melancholic inhabitants of the ship from their exhaustion. Rushing towards the loading dock with weapons in hand, the pilot and huntress coming from the Main Hold, the Iridonian and Echani from the garage, the passengers each came to a halt as the Exile appeared from the loading ramp with the Miraluka's form draped limply over his outstretched arms.

Atton attempted to call out. "Kai, what-"

"-Atton, Bao-Dur, go join Mandalore and HK in doing a perimeter sweep outside the ship; there maybe more of them out there. Mira, go check the infrared scanners in the cockpit. Handmaiden, with me," Lugo called out as he maneuvered past the pair of humans, through the Main Hold and quickly into the medical wing.

The rest of the crew, quickly deducing what had happened, sprung into action: the pilot heading down the loading ramp with the technician in pursuit, the huntress running off to check the ship's sensors, and the Echani warrior following in the Exile's steps.

Lugo placed the blind-seer slowly down upon the bed stand, and as the Handmaiden rounded the corner of the room, he quickly turned upon her. "She was hit with some sort of injection. I don't know how to treat her."

For a long moment, the warrior simply stared back into the green eyes of the man before her. Covered in rain, dirt, and sweat, the Exile's persona seemed to have become far more entrenched than was normal, the strength within his gaze empowered and driven. The young Echani found that she had trouble taking in his words as she stared directly into the eyes of such a strong-willed individual. She quickly realized what he had said to her though, and found that, even though she stumbled for a moment, her own convictions did not surrender so easily.

That woman was a Sith - this fact, in spite of all that the Handmaiden had seen of the Miraluka's devotion to helping them, and even more so to the Exile, was not something she could so readily turn aside.

If it was any one of her sisters here in her stead, they would have turned away as well. Dark Jedi were what they were trained to fight, not save. After all the Echani warrior had seen and heard of wrought by those of her kind, to assist her would be going against everything her Mistress had taught her to believe in…

…

…

…But her Mistress was a Jedi, and Jedi are meant to hold all life sacred. To let this woman die, even if she was a Sith: was that not the greater betrayal? Would not her Mistress want her to help?

The young warrior convinced herself then of the right thing to do, or at least the thing she believed her Mistress would desire her to do, and stepped forward into the Medical Bay, much to the Exile's relief and gratitude.

Proceeding as by the routines she had been taught, the Handmaiden first placed the tip of her fingers on the upper side of the Miraluka's neck, and immediately she discerned a crisis.

"Her pulse is fading fast. She needs a stimulant injection." The Echani warrior spoke as she worked through the nearby medical cabinet, quickly finding what she needed.

Meanwhile, Kai went to work removing the Miraluka's left glove, unbuckling the leather straps that secured it firmly to her flesh. Upon undoing the last restraint, he then swiftly removed the garment and pulled back upon her scarlet sleeve, revealing the length of her forearm and hand.

The Exile knew what to expect for the most part, having tended to the Miraluka before. The Handmaiden however was not as prepared for the sight of several minute scars dotting the blind seer's flesh: some cuts, some burns, some of battle, and some of other means…

Pressing past her initial hesitation, the Echani warrior proceeded to place the injector upon the front of the woman's elbow joint and activate it. At the sound of the beep she then once again checked her vitals. It took of moment for the stimulant to take effect, but the young warrior was soon able to sense a change. "Her heart rate is increasing, but it wont last – what was she poisoned with?"

"With this," Kai produced the dart which he had been holding and handed it off to the woman. "Do you know what it contained?"

The Handmaiden quickly managed to work the containment vial out of the dart's metallic holding. Trace amounts of whatever agent it once contained remained in the glass tube. Placing it beneath her nose, she took a quick sniff, hoping to place the chemical, but to no avail. "No, I do not recognize it. And I can't treat her without knowing what it is."

A heavy breath escaped the rain-drenched Jedi then, and the Handmaiden could see that her words appeared to have increased the heavy weight that seemed to be crushing the man as rubbed at his forehead, lost at what to do next.

_"Then it seems I am forced to assist."_

The pair of humans turned about to find the husk of Goto idly hovering just outside the Medical Bay. Before either could speak a word to the droid, a latch opened upon its lower hemisphere and a minute insertion conduit ejected. _"Give the compound to me. My systems are more than adequate for deducing its nature."_

Kai and the Handmaiden looked at each other for a moment with confusion in their eyes, both being taken back by the machine's sudden offer to help. Looking back upon it, the Exile attempted to diffuse his surprise. "Why-"

_"-The more time we waste here, the more resources we use, the slimmer our chances at saving the Republic become."_ Goto answered, predicting what he would be asked. _"I would rather our odds not become any closer to absolute zero than they already are, so I will provide the means for us to move forward. Now give me the vial."_

That sounded more like Goto: cold and pragmatic. As such, the Echani carefully placed the container upon the ejected reciprocal, only just managing to pull her hand away in time before it immediately receded back into the droid with the latch closing behind it.

Almost instantly the droid appeared to enter standby as a strange assortment of multi-tone beeps came from him over the next few seconds before the he fell completely silent.

"Goto?" Kai called out.

The droid remained completely still and silent.

"Hey! Goto!"

_"Keep your voice down, Jedi,"_ Goto replied as his photoreceptor repowered.

"Well?" The Exile queried with eagerness.

_"It is Thyranoxin: a protein-based neurotoxi found in the venom of a few rare species of reptiles and oceanic life-forms. It works by infiltrating the cells of specific organs via the victim's circulatory system, where upon it shuts down all ability to transfer bio-electric impulses, effectively paralyzing-"_

"Just shut up and tell me what we can do to save her!" Kai yelled out, having no patience for the droid's apathetic mutterings.

"Exile…"

Looking next to him, Lugo found the Handmaiden's eyes gazing back, steady and calm, sympathetic and knowing…

"What?" The raven-haired man did not understand her expression.

_"Were you not listening, Jedi?"_ Goto asked indifferently. _"The agent has by now already bonded with her heart cells, resulting in her weakening pulse."_

"Meaning what?"

_"Short of removing and replacing every infected organ, or having access to anti-venom designed specifically for her species, there is no procedure for countering such an aggressive concoction. Regardless of stimulants and what training she may have, the poison will do as it is meant… her killer chose his means well…"_

…

…Her killer…

…

Those words swirled about the Exile's mind for several long moments as he refused to let them settle. He knew what would happen if he let them take hold, if he let their meaning take root. He subconsciously fought against it with a desperation born of a man who had suffered such events so many times, who knew what it meant to endure tragedies, failures, and loss. He did not want to feel it. He did not want to hear it.

But one could only fight against such things for so long, and it was a fight Kai knew he could not but lose. And when he did, the weight of it fell upon him as he knew it would.

Overwhelming, overpowering, and condemning: the strain of it seemed to increase with every moment as the green-eyed veteran slowly lost the ability to even hold his head upright, causing clumps of wet hair to fall in front of his eyes.

Goto, deducing there to be nothing more to be said in the matter, quickly returned to his view screen in the Main Hold. Hopefully they would be returning to more important matters soon.

As for the Handmaiden, she was at a loss. She never trusted the Miraluka, she had made that obvious since the Sith woman had first boarded their vessel. Still… this was not what she wanted either. For the blind seer to die – none of the crew desired such a thing…

"I'm… sorry, Exile," the Echani warrior spoke her words intending to comfort the man; for what comfort such words could bring in such a moment. Very little – this she knew.

…

The sound of the rain grew heavier.

{(---)}

Almost simultaneously the huntress, pilot, and Iridonian return from their appointed tasks as they walked into the Main Hold.

"HK and the Mandalorian are still out there, but we did not find anyone," Atton stated with satisfaction as he placed his blaster back in its holster.

"Radar sweeps came back clean as well. Nothing is out there but trees and mud," Mira added as she rounded the center kiosk. "I say we finish loading up and get off this…"

As the trio came in view of the aft passage, they found the Handmaiden standing idly just outside the Medbay, looking inward. And where commonly one observed her passive persona, they now saw a face marked with depression.

"What's going on?" Mira alone approached further, coming up right next to the Echani warrior, whom still paid her no heed. Following her gaze into the miniscule room, the huntress quickly deduced the situation.

Standing with his back facing the exit, the Exile's hands tightly grasped the edge the medical bed with his head lowered: the stance of a man suffering.

"She's going to be okay, isn't she," Mira queried as her eyes repeatedly shot back between the Handmaiden and Kai. "I mean… come on! It can't be that serious! What's with you two?"

"Thyranoxin…"

Mira's thoughts fell short as she almost immediately placed the name of the compound as soon as the Echani's voice fell upon her ears. It was a favorite of the many hunters and assassins she had the displeasure of coming across in her line of work, and as such, she knew it all too well. "You're saying…"

The huntress turned back in the unconscious Miraluka's direction, only the slightest of hisses hinting that she still drew breath. She then once again looked upon Kai, baffled as to why he was not acting to save the blind seer. "You're a Jedi, right? You know how to fight off poisons. Can't you help her?"

The veteran warrior did not respond, did not even move to indicate that he could hear the young woman. Rather, he continued to stand like he did, as one who was already enveloped with the agony sewn from a crippling defeat, and that served only to infuriate Mira even farther.

"So that's it!? You're just going to stand there and watch her die!?"

Kai still did not respond. Mira's anger did, accompanied by all the hateful prejudice she had kept in check up to now; spawned from the memories of how the Jedi left her family to die, then killed the one that took her in.

"You're good at it, aren't you, Jedi! To stare in the face of a dying friend and do nothing! Your Order has taught you well!"

"Mira!"

She knew her words were out of line and her judgments unfair even before the Handmaiden called out to her. She knew Lugo, from all the unnecessary steps he took to assist Nar Shadaa's refugees, would not hesitate to save the life of someone he actually knew and cared for.

… And she knew that that meant that there was truly nothing that he could do…

…There was nothing that any of them could do…

Visas was going to die…

…

…

"Something is not right…" Kai muttered to himself as he raised his head, the grief that covered his face almost having immediately been replaced with a look of perplexity.

Outside, the pair of women looked upon the Jedi with confused expressions. The Handmaiden spoke up for both of them. "What is it?"

Though the Exile did not vocally respond, his mind raced as it was struck with a sudden awareness of an abnormality within itself. After Goto had nothing short of declared the imminentness of the Miraluka's demise, the former Jedi had found himself almost immediately overwhelmed with sensations of grief and failure. He was… so quick to accept that she was going to die and that there was nothing that could be done to stop it, that he could not save her, that no one… no one…

…

…

Kai's eyes widened with shock as realization dawned upon him. And as all his racing thoughts fell into place, the shock he felt was quickly replaced with something else…

Even with what little Jedi training the Handmaiden had in the ways of the Force so far, she was able to feel the dramatic change that occurred in Kai. Hesitantly, she called out to him. "Exile…"

Lugo turned about sharply then and walked out of the Medical Bay and headed into the Main Hold, not even pausing as he came before the pair of woman, both of whom had taken steps backwards defensively, unprepared for the strong aggression that filled the man's movements and facial features. He was angry: that was more than apparent to them…

Standing idly about the Main Hold, Atton and Bao-Dur were both surprised by the Exile's sudden entrance, as they had listened to all that happened within the Medbay with respective silence for what was occurring. More so, they too saw and felt the tremendous rage that boiled just beneath the Exile's flesh. But before either of them was able to say a word of concern for Kai's sudden change in temperament, the raven-haired warrior turned from them in the direction of the Port Dormitory.

He got but two steps before coming to a halt, the anger within his eyes replaced by mild shock for a short moment before regaining its dark composure. For he saw the object of his rage as it stood there at the intersection between the port passageway and the Main Hold, waiting for him.

She knew he would come for her. A teacher knows her student…

"I see you were quite veracious in assessing your perceptions as your greatest skill," Kreia stated in sincere admiration, ignoring the anger she could feel burning behind Lugo's eyes and oblivious to his glaring all the same. "It was a mistake for me to think I could force such feelings upon you, as opposed as they are to your unyielding nature…"

The old woman's words were followed by deep silence as the pair stood facing each other. The two other occupants of the Main Hold, minus the spherical droid who paid no heed to the event, were soon accompanied by the pair of females from the southern passageway; all of whom observed the former Jedi and his Master with confusion. Whatever it was that Kreia had done to trigger such a reaction from the Exile as she apparently did was beyond their power to perceive or deduce. The elderly woman had made sure of that…

As validated as Kai felt in his anger right then, the veteran warrior was not about to let his pride and emotions take precedence – not with Visas' life hanging in the balance. Shutting his eyes for a moment, he forced himself to focus on the image of the Miraluka throwing herself in front of him, protecting him, sacrificing her self for him. And when his sight reopened, his resolve to save the woman's life proved the greater power. "You showed me how it was possible to fight off poisons and toxins with the Force. Your knowledge in the healing arts surpasses anyone else on this ship… And I know you possess the abilities required to save her life…"

With all the thoughts that their bond had allowed the elderly woman to see within the shadows of the Exile's mind, she wasn't truly surprised that he had managed to perceive a few of her own. Of the many secrets she still kept, she had never thought to hide such trivial knowledge, and now regretted her carelessness.

They both knew she possessed the means for saving Visas' life…

And they both knew she had no intention of doing so….

The distant rumble of thunder and the sound of the rain smacking against the top of the ship's hull seemed to play against each other from the confines of the Ebon Hawk's Main Hold, like two monstrosities ferociously roaring back and forth, yet neither clearly gaining the upper hand.

"Why?" Kai bluntly asked, needing to hear the reason directly from his teacher's voice.

"Did you truly believe you could avoid this," Kreia scoffed at the man's naivety. "I warned you that her death may be a necessity if we are to succeed. The place or manner in which it occurred was insignificant. If anything, you should take comfort in the fact that you will have no direct part in her demise."

"But you will!"

"If that is how you choose to perceive it… Yet perhaps you should consider her perspective in this matter."

"Meaning what?"

"I asked you once already - what is it you truly think you can do for her, Exile?" Kreia rhetorically queried. "Can you not feel it: the bond that she shares? The bloody chain wrapped about her neck? Have you not sensed her master tugging at it, reminding his apprentice of where her true loyalty lies?"

Though he refused to visibly acknowledge it, Kai could not deny the truth behind his teacher's words. Even now he could sense it: the link between the Miraluka and the dark one that she called Master. More so, he could feel the cold chill of death traveling it as Visas' lifeforce continued to weaken, reaching across the stars and grasping for he that shared in the Force Bond. Kai could imagine that right now the Sith Lord was thrashing about the bridge of his ship, clueless as to what was happening to him as the last few threads of life within his hollow shell of a body were being torn asunder.

Kreia knew her student could sense it. "He annihilated her people, left her world broken and lifeless, and turned her into an abomination of the being she once was. There is nothing left for her in this life. Nothing but what her Master leaves in the ashes of his wake."

Kai said nothing. His eyes stared motionless at the old woman. His jaw clamped shut. All other spectators felt the energy in the air, the rising tension, hinting at something about to happen that they could not predict.

"This was the only act of free will she was capable of. The only way that she had to defy him and reclaim any sense of her humanity. She wants to die, Exile… She should have long ago… Yet if it is in the act of protecting you, then she will be granted a measure of peace in knowing that her life was not his in the end. Do you really want to take that away from her – her last possible act as an individual?"

Nothing but the sound of the rain filled the ears of all who were around to listen then. Nothing but the endless pattering of water beating hard on the ship, drowning every inch of the atmosphere and making the sweltering air of Dxun even harder to breathe than the last time Kai remembered being here. Everything felt so… futile for the Exile right now. So much so that he found he barely had the strength of will to even continue standing up straight, his chin ever reaching closer to his chest.

She… made it sound right… She made him feel naive and selfish in his desire to save the life of the Miraluka…

It may have been his carelessness that brought her to this point, but what she did had been her choice nonetheless… And in that moment just before she lost consciousness as the poison filled her, as she collapsed into the Exile's arms, he had felt her happiness in being able to save him.

She wanted this… more than anything…

…

…

But…

…

Kai's head shot back up – with eyes burning with the clarity of knowing what he must do. His body then whipped halfway around with his left arm reaching out behind him in Atton's direction. Before anyone else knew what was happening, the pilot's blaster flew from its holster on his side and into Kai's waiting hand.

No one among those present could have guessed the Exile's intent, not even Kreia. They all watched the muzzle of that weapon as it swung about the room, moving so fast in what felt like several prolonged seconds. It went past the Handmaiden, past the huntress, then beginning to slow down, moving slower and slower before coming to a halt before the old woman…

No one moved to stop him. No one spoke a word of dissuasion. If Kai intended to kill his teacher, then none within that room would interject, no matter how wrong they felt it would be.

Would he pull the trigger? Would he disregard all the possible consequences that could occur, even the possibility of sharing in her death, in a fleeting moment of rage and aggression?

…No, of course not…

For all the things Kai has done in moments of passion without properly thinking of the consequences, sparing the Miraluka included, to take a life in cold blood was never one of them.

Bao-Dur, knowing his General, knowing the Jedi who never forsook his compassion for others when even those he followed chose to, knew he could not do it.

Atton and Mira both knew it, though they did not understand why they did.

Even the Handmaiden, who had every reason to believe otherwise, could not bring herself to believe that the Exile would do something so… beneath him…

And last but not least, Kreia. As unexpected as the Exile's actions were, she never for a moment felt herself in danger. She knew he would not harm her; that to do so, for him, would have been a death of a different sort. A worse sort…

But that still begged the question: what was Lugo's intent?

"Have you ever felt the need to save a life, Kreia?" The Exile asked the woman calmly, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he currently holding a blaster at the woman. "Have you ever looked into the eyes of someone you knew would die without your help? Someone you had never met before – for whom you had nothing invested in?"

Was he speaking of the Miraluka? Partially, perhaps, but not completely… The clairvoyant teacher felt the strings of nostalgia being plucked within her student, sending out echoes through his voice. This was an aged anguish coming out from within the war veteran, fermented with time and guilt, and now spiced with emotions that the Exile was completely out of touch with.

He was fooling himself if he thought that his feelings for the blind seer were so… impersonal, but Kreia kept that observation to herself. Fortunately, he still did not understand what he felt for her: that strange warmth that stirred in his chest, or why he used such words as 'I' and 'me' more around her than anyone else – two words that leaders often avoided when playing the role.

He did not understand what drove him to spare the Miraluka, to give her a sense that her life held worth. He even admitted to her that he tries not to think on it, and the old woman hoped he never would.

"How far would you go to save such a life, Kreia?" Kai's voice began to rise in tone, to where he almost seemed to shout. "Would you be willing to make sacrifices? Would you kill those who did not deserve to die in order to protect that which is important to you? Would you abandon the weak, lay waste in entire worlds, and damn everyone around you for your own ambitions!? Well!?"

Did he expect her to answer? Kreia doubted the man even meant these questions for her.

No, they were meant for someone else - someone that the former Jedi had once chosen to follow. Someone who had taught him a very painful lesson of sacrifice; of the difference between knowing how far one must be willing to go… and how far one must be willing to fall in order to protect what was important to them…

Kai had learned what it meant to sacrifice others for the greater good. He knew there had been no choice in the matter: that what he had done to end that war was the lesser of two evils – the lesser of two failures.

That sometimes we must do things for which we can never forgive ourselves – that sometimes we must let the innocent die: that had been Revan's final teaching to his former General before he let Kai leave his following.

And now, it seemed that his newest teacher was intent on reaffirming that lesson. To force him to once again make a sacrifice that he would not forgive himself for…

…

…Unfortunately for the untraditional teacher, Kai did not take his lesson well…

"I'm tired of watching the innocent make sacrifices, Kreia…" The anger had left Lugo's voice, but not his eyes. "Let the guilty die as they should…"

And before anyone noticed it, the muzzle of the blaster pistol had turned away from the old woman… and came to rest comfortably between the dark strands on the side of the Exile's own head.

The rain became softer then, accompanied by a calm roll of thunder across the tearful sky: a soothing blend of sounds that were strikingly in contrast to the sudden rise in tenseness and uncertainty that surged through all spectators within the Ebon Hawk. Most especially within Kreia, finding herself in a position she both hated and fear – one with no control.

For while his life was bonded with her own, Kreia had thought there to be no chance that the Exile would risk killing her. She realized now the flaw in her presumption. The former Jedi did not fear death, and Kreia's gambit was for naught.

Kai was capable of killing himself, and Kreia knew she could not force him to do otherwise. Manipulation, her preferred strength, now no longer achieving its desired affect, the elderly woman fell back on her oldest and once most respected means of influence: reason. "You have no right to tell me what lives I can and cannot save, Exile… Much of the blood covering your own hands is thick and cold, more so than anyone else who walked away from the Mandalorian Wars. But you know this… and you know what you risk now, last of the Jedi… Even should the blind one's Master fade along with her, the Sith will not, and they will continue down his same path until one day they shall bring to the galaxy what he brought to Katarr… Would you allow such a thing simply for the sake of one misbegotten soul?"

Would he listen to her now? Would he place aside whatever foolish impulse it was that drove him to point that weapon at his own head and listen!?

"Wrong, Kreia," Kai replied forcefully and dominantly, "This is not about one soul, one Sith Lord, or one exiled Jedi! It's about making choices that should never be made! It's about choosing the easier path rather than the right one!"

Kreia was more than used to being confronted by overly forceful men, having had the fortune, and more often lack of fortune, of being the teacher of so many. So perhaps she did not find the Exile's aggressive nature as overwhelming as the others did. More so, she found his attempts at being her teacher were simply aggravating. "Was it the right path that led you to kill all those Jedi and Republic soldiers who trusted you with their lives at Malachor, Exile? Was it the right path to sacrifice all that you were for the sake of war, discarded by your former commander and your former Masters, and left to wander aimlessly like a corpse that refuses to lie down? No… you lived with your choices and your wounds and you moved forward. This is my choice, and I will be the one who has to live with it."

…

…

…

"You sound just like him…"

Kai's eyes lowered, his voice almost seeming to laugh as he spoke, as if privy to some joke that no one else partook of. "I must have argued with him at least a hundred times in all those hellish years. Sometimes we did things my way, but most of the time his way. I suppose that was for the best really. It was his war – his name was the one everyone knew and praised. And he taught me much in that time that I am unable to forget…"

The strength returned to his voice as his gaze burned strongly. "But this is a lesson that not even Revan could make me accept… and I would rather pay my debts to the dead than let you to force me to relive that nightmare!"

He would not see his innocence in this, Kreia realized. He would blame himself regardless of anything she said or did. Why? Why was he so intent on taking responsibility for the Miraluka's life - for the lives of all his companions despite how little he truly knew about them?

Why did he choose to fight a war that he must have known he would lose everything in? Why was he not corrupted by Revan's teachings? Why did he not die when he was supposed to?

… If he pulled that trigger, then Kreia would lose all the answers she so desperately needed to find. Damn the galaxy! She needed to know that she was right in her teachings! She needed to prove beyond any doubt the flaw of the Jedi way! She needed-

The Exile said something then his teacher never could have anticipated. "The Order once tried to convince me that it was better to let people die than to face the unknown, Kreia… Are you attempting to prove that they were right?"

…

Struck by lightning. Smacked in the face. Stopped cold in her tracks. What analogy appropriately described the sensation the elderly woman felt right then? Reason had been her companion, righteousness her weapon, conviction her shield. For them all to be torn from her by such simple words…

Twice before, when the Order had cast her out, sacrificing her to their feelings of guilt and failure, and when her last two apprentices betrayed her to their lusts for power, had she found her foundation shaken in such a way. Was she right in her pursuit of truth, in her means and methods? What did such matter in the greater scheme of things? It was one life weighed against the countless that the Miraluka's Master would take otherwise! How could he possibly defend saving her!?

Stepping back from it now, the elderly woman pondered her drive. For so long she had snuffed at the Order for their blind devotion, their hesitance to explore beyond the safety of the stale and unchanging, to never risk the unknown and perhaps find something far greater than they could have imagined. Was she partaking of such a perception now? Was it fear that made her feel it practical to let one wretched creature die for the sake of the galaxy? Was it not the same situation, the same choice that the Exile made at Malachor V?

…

…

Perhaps… perhaps not. It did not matter. What mattered was the weapon ready to burn a hole through her student's head. What mattered was the only thing stopping this from happening was the choice she had to make. What mattered was that if she let the seer die, he would not forgive her, or himself. And that was what it came down to: her choice. Would she choose what she thought was the right decision, whether it was motivated by fear or reason or anything else, or would she choose to grant her apprentice a meaningless act of mercy, despite all that it would risk?

…

…

The rain grew even softer then. No one moved. No one spoke. The blaster rested comfortably in Kai's hand. His finger lay upon the trigger, neither moving to clench or to retract. A moment reaching its fork, set to go either way based on a simple choice.

Kreia lowered her head slightly as she brought the palm of her one remaining hand before her face, slowly raising it up to push the hood of her cloak off of her temple. As the cloth fell to the back of her neck, the old woman raised her head once again in her student's direction, her face and near-dead eyes now completely revealed.

And then they looked at one another: Kai with eyes that he had trained to see what others often did not, and Kreia with eyes that saw next to nothing. Yet it was a shared feeling between them, one that even the non-knowing spectators could sense the hints of, that perhaps this moment, right now, was truly the first time the teacher and the student saw each other.

A man, broken by war, walking the path of a corpse that refuses to lie down or rot. A woman, betrayed by peer and disciple, spiteful of a world where the road to power was the road to death. Both with regrets. Both responsible for so much. Only one of them would have any of the blood drenching their hands washed off today…

…

…

…

…

Kreia took a few steps forward into the Main Hold, placing herself right in front of the Exile, looked directly into his deep-green eyes as if she could see them… then turned and passed between the Handmaiden and the huntress, and disappeared into the Medical Bay…

It was over…

Kai had not gone to follow his teacher. He knew what she was going to do – there was no need for him to be there. Rather, he stood still facing the port pathway, with melancholic eyes gazing downward. Almost as an afterthought did he finally recall the blaster still pointed at his head before he lowered his arm. Drenched in rain, dirt, and sweat, the former General had little doubt that he looked probably as pathetic as he felt right then.

"Kai?" Atton was the first to step forward and speak. There were some among those who had watched the incident who wanted to remark on how brave they thought the Exile had been in willingly going so far to save Visas' life. Others wanted to chastise him for his stupidity in making such a reckless and short-sighted move, angered that he would be so willing to throw his life away like that. As for Atton: "Uhh...You think I can have my blaster back now?"

Spinning the weapon about in his hand, the former Jedi tossed it up over his shoulder in the pilot's direction, who then caught it in mid-air and holstered it on his hip. "You know… we would have had a hell of a time cleaning up the place if you had blown your brains all over…"

Two sets of female eyes shot in the man's direction before he realized how ill-thought it had been of him to make such a joke right then. No one there felt like laughing at the moment. Not even him…

Kai weakly smiled though. "Indeed… it would have been quite bothersome for me to kill myself here, now… Sorry if I scared you…"

It was both an admission of his own foolishness and the apology of a man who was not proud of what he had done – of how he had frightened and hurt all those around the room whom he knew truly cared for him.

The rain began to pick up again.

Kai Lugo closed his eyes for a moment as he listened to the hectic clamor. "It never stops pouring here, does it?"

With that, the exhausted warrior slowly began to walk to the Starboard Dormitory, desiring to place Dxun's storms behind him.

{(---)}

Taking shelter from the sudden increase in downpour beneath the Ebon Hawk's hull alongside the assassin droid, the new Mandalore found himself pondering his unexpected situation.

Same ship.

Same annoying droids.

Same mission to save the galaxy.

But a different crew and a different Jedi. And of all things - one of Revan's former Generals…

Fate must have a strange sense of humor, the Mandalorian silently thought. Again and again, he finds himself allied beside the very same individuals he once fought against. And General Lugo was a name that his people knew well.

The Left Hand of Revan, who was known to have taken part in some of the bloodiest ground battles of the Mandalorians Wars. The one who lead the main assault against the now ruined Mandalorian strongholds upon this very moon. The one who unleashed the horror of Malachor V…

Even before the war's end, General Lugo was rumored have killed more Mandalorians by hand, blade and lightsaber than any other Jedi or Republic soldier. Such made him worthy of a Mandalorian's respect and fear.

And worthy of fighting alongside…

"What do you think, droid," Canderous said aloud as he looked over to the machine standing beside him. "Is this Master of yours adequate?"

HK stared at the armor clad Mandalorian for a moment, the vocal pattern recognition protocols within his behavior core giving him the sense that he should know this life form, but unable to deduce from where due to the gaps in his memory banks. Disregarding the sensation, the machine replied. _"Answer: Master… is a strange one, even for a Jedi meatbag. Combat and slaughter come to him like mynoks to a dying bantha. And yet he persists in this annoying attempt of his to bring peace and order wherever he goes. One minute, he's slaughtering every meatbag in sight, the next he's initiating diplomatic relations. I wish he would make up his mind so I wouldn't have to keep second-guessing when I should or should not blow limbs off meatbags…"_

He was a pain four years ago and he was a pain now.

Turning about to walk up the loading ramp with the droid following close behind, Canderous grunted under his breath, coming to stop before stepping onto the metal platform.

The ache in his rusty bones was a reminder of all that was different. He was older now, not as strong as he had been five years ago, or as stupid either. As much as this moment felt the same as it had been back then, so many other things reminded him that it wasn't.

It would be harder this time. It would be agonizing this time. And any sane man who was as far past his prime as he was would think twice before stepping onto that ship again.

Would it be worth it? Would he succeed in reforming the Mandalorian Clans under his banner, as Revan had commanded of him, and make ready for the war that was to come? Did this old body of his have enough strength in it to follow orders one last time?

…

…

Blaster rifle at the ready, armor fastened tightly, and bones aching with every step, the proud warrior climbed aboard.

{(---)}

…

…

…

…

"Exile…"

…

…

"Exile…"

…

…

"Kai…"

Stirring from his dreamless sleep at the sound of his name, the raven-haired warrior slowly raised his head, finding that he was sitting beside the medical bed, arms crossed as they rested on top of it.

For a moment, he had forgotten why it was that he was here. But as his eyes began to find their focus within the dark room, they began to make out the robed figure of the Miraluka lying upon the bed, and quickly did the Exile's memory find him then.

"Visas?" Lugo called out in a soft voice.

The Miraluka's body shifted slightly underneath the blanket covering her as she attempted to move, but finding herself too weak. Rather, she slowly turned her veiled face to look in the direction of the man by her side.

"Hey," Kai whispered, wishing he had something better to say. "How do you feel?"

"Weak… tired…" Visas' voice cracked as she spoke through a dry throat. "Wha… what…"

"You were poisoned," Kai explained. "That assassin – he shot you with an injection. You were unconscious almost immediately… You're going to be alright though."

"How… how long…?"

"Two days… We're on route to Nar Shadaa right now, but it will be three more before we arrive…"

Realizing then exactly where she was, the Miraluka made a more forceful attempt to lift herself up then, breathing heavily as she fought against the numbness throughout her body. "Forgive me… I shall return to my…"

Kai lightly placed a hand on the woman's shoulder, and even that soft touch was enough to force her to collapse down on the bed once again.

"You just need to rest, okay? You haven't nearly recovered enough."

"But this… this is your…"

"I'm fine, Visas. It doesn't concern me in the slightest, so please don't let it bother you."

She had not the strength to argue, let alone to get herself to her own bed. "How… how did you… save me…?"

"I…" The former Jedi turned his emerald eyes away, his mouth slightly open as if the words were ready to come out. However his mind caught hold of them before they escaped. Something told him that she would not appreciate knowing the exact… circumstances behind her salvation. "It… doesn't matter… You're alive – that's all that's important…"

He was hiding something from her. She could not deduce what, but she sensed his reservation. "Kai… what is it?"

"_Tell her, Exile…"_

The voice of his teacher once again resounded through the fallen Jedi's mind. He knew it was naïve of him to hope that she would stay out of it, that she would grant him some relieve in the matter. But then… what kind of teacher would she be if she did not continually try to imprint her lessons upon her student?

"_She was ready to accept her fate – to face the death that should have been hers with the rest of her people. For it to occur in the act of protecting you would have given her a sense of fulfillment as nothing else would. She deserves to know that the very life she wanted to save was almost thrown away in turn without prejudice; that you must believe her to be so imbecilic and pathetic to have desired to protect you…"_

Kai had had enough. For every lesson that Kreia had taught him, for every time she made him rethink the consequences of his actions, it had been with a genuine respect for her wisdom and experience, and the belief that she did so with the desire to guide him proper.

But in this, the Exile realized his teacher had no more say. She had made her choice, had played her role, and now all that was left was between Visas and himself. And furthermore, Kreia was wrong. What he felt was not a sense of ridicule for the Miraluka, though he could not deny that he did feel a twinge of anger for what she had done. And he had his own question for the woman – one he felt to be far more important.

"Why, Visas? Why did you do something so foolish like that?"

The blind seer took a few long and strained breaths before attempting to answer. "I felt his presence… attempted to warn you… too late… had to protect you…"

She said nothing that the Exile did not anticipate… and yet she had not answered his question as he desired. Or perhaps Kai had been so vague in what he asked because a part of him was afraid of what the woman would tell him in response – afraid that she would confirm everything that his Master and teacher had said about her. Afraid that she would tell him that she wanted to die…

…

…

"You could have knocked me out of the way…" How Kai wished he could stop himself as the words crawled out of his mouth. "There were other ways you could have helped me… But to have thrown yourself in front of me like that… Why, Visas…"

And so he had asked the question that he had not wanted to - and by such, his Master had won… All his attempts to convince himself that it did not matter to him were now meaningless… Now all that did matter would be the seer's answer.

And after several more breaths, she gave it.

"It was… the only way to be certain… The only way to make sure… that you were safe… Could not risk… you being hurt…"

…

And that was it. Not a word of wanting to die followed. And for that, Lugo was extremely grateful-

"-Did you want to die?"

…

How could he have asked her that? How could he POSSIBLY have asked her that!? It was as if Kai had no control of his voice as the question escaped his lungs. For only a moment, he wondered if perhaps his teacher had somehow forced it from him, but quickly he dismissed the notion. He was the one who had asked it. Despite all desires to the contrary, he had asked it because he needed to know. And Visas would answer whether he wanted her to or not.

"…Want… to die?" The Miraluka echoed his words, perhaps having to contemplate them.

Visas fell silent then…

Was she afraid to answer him? Was she afraid of the answer? How would he take it if she told him the truth and it was not what he wanted to hear? Would it shatter his conviction? Would it tear at him as violently and as mercilessly as the thought of losing her? Kai did not know, and he was scared because of it.

Catching her breath for a moment, the blind seer finally responded.

"… I wanted to… protect you… That is all that I wanted…"

So she had answered, completely and honestly.

Almost immediately Kai, eyes still closed and forehead still lowered, found himself bursting out in hushed laughter – a reaction that completely perplexed the seer.

Truth had often been one of the crueler patriarchs in the Exile's life. How unexpected that it would throw a bone to a dog of war like him. He couldn't help but laugh a little at the irony.

"Thank you, Visas," Kai said as he looked back up with a broad smile and tired eyes. "Thank you for saving my life."

That he was thanking her… that he was thankful for her…

She could not rightly say she understood, but that did not serve to stem the warm feeling that the Miraluka felt in response.

The woman's strength reached its limit then, and she quickly found the need to sleep taking hold throughout her body. "Kai… I'm sorry… I… can't…"

"Please go back to sleep, Visas," Lugo warmly spoke.

"Will… you…" the Miraluka struggled to speak, unable to complete her thought.

In an act meant to comfort, the Exile reached for the seer's limb as it still lay bare beside her. Yet as he did so, he stopped abruptly as he saw the hand that moved to take hers. His left hand…

He retracted his limb, placing it and the other before his gaze, staring at them with scrutiny, and only then realizing that his own hands were bare, having removed his gloves when he changed out of his rain-soaked robes.

After so long he really had to concentrate to notice it – that one was not the same as the other; that one hand did not feel the same as the other. And that was important to him right now, though why, he did not know.

Eventually Kai once again reached forward. This time with his other hand – the one which proved him to still be of flesh and blood…

It was a slow motion as his arm crawled through the air, as if he was uncertain in his actions, or simply afraid. Soon the palm of his hand came to hover only an inch over that of the woman's, and there it stayed. The muscles in his chest tightened as the sensations throughout his body began to feel intensified. And slowly, very slowly, Kai lowered his arm…

…

…

For the first time since they crossed paths, the flesh of the Exile and the Miraluka touched upon each other with nothing in between them…

…

…

Even through the calluses on his palm, Kai could feel the soft and smooth texture, the folds of her fingers as they natural came to wrap around him. And the warmth born between them…

His hand, the hand that belonged to a man that lost everything, who felt alone even whilst in a ship full of those who called him friend and ally, caringly wrapped about the Miraluka's, the hand of a woman who had lost all that she loved and nearly lost all that she was, who felt damned to live on in pain, and fated only to one day die alone… the apprentice of he who took everything from her…

By fate or coincidence, they found each other… and the galaxy did not feel quite so lonely…

"Rest, Visas," Kai said as his grip tightened slightly to affirm his presence. "I'm not going anywhere…"

It took within only a few minutes for the Miraluka for fall into the most comfortable sleep she had known in a long time. And even after, Kai still did not let go of her hand.

He did not want to let go…

…

…

Why did he not want to let go?

These sensations – they were so… foreign and unfamiliar to the Exile. He knew what it meant to feel empathy and compassion for others, to care for them and desire to help them. But this… it was selfish. It was not a desire to help or to be compassionate. It was… sitting uncomfortably in a small, cramped room, unable to fall back asleep, awkwardly positioned as he held the hand of the only apprentice of a powerful Sith Lord… and feeling calm and serene in a way as he had never experienced before, and not wanting to be anywhere else...

What was this? What did it mean?

…

Could he possibly be-

{(---)}

"-No," Kreia quietly called out as she meditated within her chambers. "Not now…"

She could not risk it - allowing the Exile to realize what it was that he felt for the Miraluka. As hard as it was to convince him to think beyond the scope of his empathetic nature, if he came to grips with this… at this time, against these enemies, it would weaken him… it would kill him…

What choice did she have?

"I… am sorry, Kai, but the galaxy cannot afford you… not while it still needs Revan's General…"

{(---)}

A chronic ache suddenly swelled within the Exile's forehead, deadening him to whatever thought was attempting to cross his mind. By impulse, he pulled his hand away from the sleeping Miraluka and began to rub at his temple.

Thoughts blurred as the pain spread throughout his head until it became all that he knew. Second by second passed in agony without Kai's understanding.

Why was his head suddenly throbbing like this?

What was causing-

His thoughts blanked out as the sensation spiked, tearing at his head like screecher charges, leaving him unable to think, unable to do anything but grab at his pounding skull so tightly that his nails began to pierce.

Moment by moment passed as the feeling continued to plague him, tearing away at his consciousness until nearly the point of causing him to pass out.

Then… it disappeared.

The sensation instantly washed away by means as transparent as its cause. A few seconds passed before Kai found himself capable of processing his thoughts once again. Breathing hard, the warrior's eyes darted about the dark room, glancing among the shadows for any indication of… anything.

What had just happened? Such a sudden and intense migraine was not something he was accustomed to experiencing…

The cold, durasteel walls provided no explanation, forcing the Exile to make his own.

An attack perhaps? If so, by whom? Short of a Sith Lord with an uncharacteristic passion for passive means hiding away in the ventilation system, that it was instigated by an unseen enemy was near an impossibility.

And of those on the ship, the list of those capable of doing such a thing was extremely short, especially with one of them currently lying before him and unconscious.

Kreia…?

…

No, Kai concluded without any deep contemplation. Kreia may be a lot of things, relentless in her preaching for one, controlling for another, but doing such a thing… What purpose could it have possibly served? None that he could think of…

Maybe he was making something out of nothing. Maybe it was just a massive headache brought on by his usual over-thinking and long days. The one hour of rest he had early was apparently not enough to cover two sleepless nights. He must be getting old…

With… someone currently occupying what was usually his bed, Kai weakly got to his feet to leave, set on spending the next two hours on one of the bunks in the dormitories.

Kreia would likely have a couple to spare…

Strange, Kai thought as he left the Medical Bay. His memory of the last few days felt… incomplete, like he had forgotten something very important that had happened…

It would have to wait. He was too tired…

{(---)}

Compared to the mind of the fool, Kreia found her student's to be more… well, direct was the best way she could describe it. Where Atton made used emotions, impulses, meaningless ponderings, and crude lies to guard his mind, none of which proved affective enough against her in the end, the Exile's thoughts were guarded by what appeared to the elderly woman as an instinctive will born of the man's subconscious – a silent beast lurking beneath, preventing her from entering unbridled. And if not for the bond between them, it would have been far more difficult.

Still it proved unexpectedly effective at keeping her at bay, guarding every perceived opening like a protective matron guardian her young, and forcing her to use intense pain as a means of subduing and infiltrating.

She hated herself for that. Pain was the crudest of methods and teachers, one only meant for those too arrogant or egotistical to learn otherwise. Lugo was neither of these. He deserved better.

But this was not about teaching or example – this was about preventing him from making a fatal mistake. The same mistake she had seen so many other Jedi make; one worse than the acts brought about by mere lust or passion. Brought about by a Sith, of all people…

She would not kill the Miraluka though. As easy and simple a solution as it would be for many of their problems, the decision was no longer in her hands. Her moment of choosing had already passed, and she chose to show mercy to the Exile. And she would not demean herself by going back on the choice she already made.

The far-off footsteps Kreia heard echoing throughout the ship became firmer and louder as Kai walked into the Port Dormitory, finding his teacher still meditating on the ground. He glanced in her direction only for a moment with eyes neither angry nor suspicious - simply tired - before going to the nearest bunk and collapsing hard on the cold mattress and blanket. It took less than a minute for him to fall into a deep sleep.

He was physically and mentally exhausted. Yet he would still wake up within only a few hours, complete his daily exercises, meditate and study, practice his lightsaber and unarmed combat forms, do whatever work was needed throughout the ship, then begin the cycle anew the next day.

Discipline and commitment, and the habits of one who fights wars and leads warriors: such was what was necessary of him if they hoped to prevail. To have it complicated but such an irrational and unpredictable emotion…

For now, he would know nothing of it. Though the elderly woman could not prevent the sensations her student and the Miraluka felt within the presence of each other, the Exile would remain unable to grasp their meaning while her deceptions remained planted within his mind. Such was all that could be done for now.

As she stood up and walked over to the last bunk, quietly lying down on the mattress, Kreia found herself in unease.

It was more difficult for her than she thought it would be – accepting what she had done. She had been deceptive. She had been manipulative. But betrayal…

Betrayal was something else, far colder and crueler than any lie. The Handmaiden had betrayed her Mistress, and in doing has wrought a death sentence upon herself by her sisters and the fallen Jedi Master. Her former peers and students had betrayed her… and loathe the fate she would bring upon them all…

She had betrayed her student this day.

And while she could not forgive those that had betrayed her, she wanted to believe he could…


End file.
